the keys to the given!

when you buy something used, please clean it energetically. also do that with “gifts” from people you don’t fully trust.

I just learned yesterday that Pikachu, my favorite Pokemon, was originally designed not by Ken Sugimori (he only finalized the design), but by a female graphic designer named Atsuko Nishida. 

Also after googling her, I found out that she’s also designed Sylveon–another favorite PKMN of mine. She’s also illustrated some very pretty Pokemon cards!!

Thank you Ms. Nishida! :-) May you get more credit and love for your contribution to the Pokemon franchise.

december 31st, 2015, 10:23 pm: i saw you for the first time. you were talking to a girl and i could tell that you were capturing her with every syllable that left your mouth. and i knew why: you were beautiful and bright, and i was drawn to you even then, like the planets are drawn to the sun.

december 31st, 2015, 11:58 pm: we met standing in line for the bathroom. you introduced yourself, and asked for my name, smiling when i gave it. “lovely,” you murmured, and repeated it a few more times, rolling the letters around in your mouth like a new food.

january 1st, 2016, 12:05 am: i could still feel you on me, your lips, minutes, hours, months later. the clock had struck midnight and you just grabbed me, didn’t ask if it was okay until it was over. you were laughing, brushing it off, all teeth and well-kissed lips, but i knew i saw you blushing. 

january 21st, 2016, 1:12 pm: you got my number through the mutual friend that threw the party. i still don’t know how you got my address. i didn’t remember telling you. you couldn’t tell me, either.

february 14th, 2016, 9:12 pm: you took me out to dinner and bought me chocolate and roses. it was all so cliche, and i loved every second of it. when you kissed me good night, i swore i could feel the rest of my life, pressed right up against my lips.

february 26th, 2016, 11:33 pm: we made it official. i remember how you asked me, how shy you got, like you didn’t know what the answer would be.

march 17th, 2016, 5:43 pm: we spent the day at the saint patrick’s day parade, and you filled yourself with beer and kissed me hard against the bar bathroom door. i drove you home and that was the first time you told me you loved me.

march 18th, 2016, 9:24 am: you called me and told me you loved me again. “i want to make sure that you know i still mean it when i’m sober,” you said.

march 24th, 2016, 1:09 pm: i met your parents at easter brunch. you had demanded i come with you, and i was glad i did. your mother was kind and beautiful, and your father was warm and handsome, just like i knew they’d be. after we’d eaten, your mother got me alone. “he’s never brought a girl home before,” she told me, “normally he isn’t very open about who he’s dating. but you, you’re different. don’t read into this, but i think he may really think you’re special.”

april 12th, 2016, 8:31 pm: you saw me naked for the first time, and you kissed every inch of my skin. i’d never felt that much love from anybody before that night, and i haven’t since. not even you could replicate those few hours.

may 5th, 2016, 4:57 pm: we fought for the first time. i ran into my ex at the grocery store and wanted to chat for a few minutes. you didn’t. when we got in the car, you told me that if i was still in love with somebody else i could just leave, and i told you that you should trust me and not be so insecure about our relationship. we screamed the whole way home and you slammed the car door when i dropped you off. i almost crashed three times on the drive home.

may 6th, 2016, 8:03 am: you came by with flowers and breakfast. “I’m sorry,” you told me, “you just mean so much to me, and the thought of you ever being anyone else’s makes me sick.” i smiled, “but you don’t have to worry about that now. i’m yours.”

june 16th, 2016, 10:51 pm: for my birthday you took me out to dinner and gave me a beautiful necklace with a silver chain and pearl pendant. we drank expensive wine and stumbled back to my place and fucked. i had never been fucked before, not like this. i woke up the next morning with bite marks on my neck and hickeys all the way down my stomach, but you were gone. “had to run,” you’d written on a post it note, “i love you.”

june 18th, 2016, 2: 41 pm: i hadn’t seen you since my birthday and you weren’t picking up when i’d call.

june 19th, 2016, 3:13 am: “ had to run,” the post it note had said. maybe you were running from me. i couldn’t tell if it was the 3 am darkness talking or the part of me that already knew.

july 1st, 2016, 4:01 am: i looked over at you, sleeping in the darkness beside me. when we were together, things felt perfectly normal. but now, i could feel the shifts. “are we falling apart?” i whispered to you, and although i hadn’t expected an answer, the silence broke my heart all the same.

july 4th, 2016, 6:47 pm: we were at a barbecue and i saw you across the crowd, talking to a girl. i saw the way she was drinking up every word that escaped from between your lips, and that’s when i knew. that’s when i knew you weren’t mine anymore.
july 21st, 2016, 7:08 pm: i brought it up to you. “i think we’re starting to grow apart,” i said, “there’s a distance between us that wasn’t here before.” you reassured me that it was all in my head, but i didn’t hear it in your voice. i didn’t see it in your eyes. you knew it was there, too, but unlike me, you weren’t trying to do anything to stop it.

august 10th, 2016, 11:37 pm: i lay awake and thought about what your mother said, all these months later. “don’t read into this.” but of course i did. i couldn’t help myself. fuck, i loved you so much.
august 15th, 2016, 1:12 pm: you invited me over and i discovered that the key you’d given me no longer worked. “i had the locks changed,” you said, “i’ll get you a new one.” it was a lie, and i knew it. you didn’t get me a new key.

september 8th, 2016, 2:00 pm: i caught you cheating. in a desperate attempt to revive the romance we’d had at the beginning of our relationship, i bought dinner and brought it to your place. when you finally opened the door, i saw it written all over your face; the way your eyes widened, the way your jaw dropped, the way your cheeks drained of color. i heard it in the stammer of your voice, the sharp intake of your breath, the grinding of your teeth. when the girl walked up behind you, half naked, asking who it was at the door, i already knew. “how could you?” i whispered, and you just opened and closed your mouth. the girl pieced it together and started screaming. she hadn’t known. i left the food at the doorstep.

september 10th, 2016, 1:49 am: you never called after that, never came by, never reached out, but it wasn’t like we’d needed to confirm anything. i knew it was over, but it took every ounce of willpower i had not to go back to your place and find out why, why everything.

september 27th, 2016, 6:20 pm: i kept finding myself huddled in a ball; in my bedroom, in my kitchen, in my shower. not crying, or yelling. just huddled, clutching my body close to myself, staring. still not understanding.

october 31st 2016, 9:01 pm: i spent halloween haunted by the ghost of you. your face was around every corner. i could still feel your touch trickling down my spine. that night, i lost it. the anger surged through the sadness and bubbled to the surface. i screamed until my throat was raw, screamed at nothing, about nothing, for no reason other than i was too full.

november 10th, 2016, 2:17 am: you called me when you were drunk and i answered. i listened to you ramble, vomiting up apology after apology. near the end, you told me you loved me. “call me tomorrow when you’re sober if you still love me,” i said.  you didn’t. 

november 25th, 2016, 7:15 pm: i went out on a date with somebody new. they didn’t pull me in like you did, but for a few hours, i forgot about you and i felt okay. i drank myself to sleep that night so i wouldn’t have to think about you. the next morning, the hangover hurt more than you did. it was a start.

december 24th, 2016, 8:12 pm: i was spending christmas with my family, and i was doing great until my aunt asked about you. i told her you cheated, but i was doing okay, and then i excused myself and threw up the appetizers into the toilet. i called you then, and when you picked up, i let out a sob. “you ruined me, you fuck,” i croaked, “and you can’t even apologize. not when you’re sober, at least.” there were a few seconds of silence, and then you hung up. i still hope that it ruined your christmas.

december 31st, 2016, 10:23 pm: i saw you for the first time in months across the crowd. it made me sick to know that even after all that had happened, you were still the most beautiful person in the room to me.

december 31st, 2016, 11:55 pm: you found me in the kitchen. “i wanted to tell you i’m sorry,” you yelled over the music, “and i miss you.” and in those final moments of the year, i thought about it. i thought about letting you back in. the countdown started, and you moved closer to me. and i.. i pushed you away. i turned away from you and said, “no. i can’t.” and i walked out of the room.

january 1st, 2017, 12:05 am: i have forgotten how you felt against me, your lips. and for the first time, i am finally okay with that.

—  a year in review -c.h. // instagram: @evanescent.love (via @poeticaffinity)
5

There must be both dark and light. I will do what I must to keep the balance, as the balance is what holds all life. There is no good without evil, but evil must not be allowed to flourish. There is passion, yet peace; serenity, yet emotion; chaos, yet order. I am a wielder of the flame; a champion of balance. I am a guardian of life. I am a Gray Jedi.

Horror in Room 1046 

Just after lunch time on 2 January, 1935, a young man entered the Hotel President in Kansas City, Missouri. He had no luggage and asked if he could have a room for the night. He signed his name as “Roland T. Owen” was given the key for room 1046. Shortly afterwards, the maid arrived to clean the room. As she opened the door, she found the man sitting on the bed in the dark. Even though it was still light outside, he had tightly drawn the blind. She recalled that the man seemed somewhat afraid or nervous. As she was cleaning, he put on his coat and left the room, asking her to leave the door unlocked because he was expecting a friend to arrive later on. At approximately 4PM, the maid arrived at room 1046 to leave fresh towels for the evening. The man was lying on the bed with a note beside him which read: “Don, I will be back in fifteen minutes. Wait.

The following morning, the maid arrived once again to clean the room. Once again, she found the man sitting in the dark. As she cleaned around him, he took a call from “Don” and told him he wasn’t going to get any breakfast. Before she left, he began to question her about her role within the hotel and what duties she was to carry out. When she returned later on in the afternoon with more fresh towels, an unidentified male grunted that they didn’t need any. Later on in the afternoon, another guest reported hearing a woman’s voice coming from room 1046 and relayed that she sounded angry. At around 11pm that night, a man driving downtown saw a man running down the street in pants and a shirt - strange clothing choice for the brisk winter air, he though. The man asked the driver, who he initially mistook as a taxi driver, if he could give them a lift to somewhere that he could flag down a taxi. He noted that the oddly dressed man had a large wound on his arm and looked in a bad shape.

Back at the Hotel President the next morning, it was noticed that the phone in room 1046 was left off the hook. A bellboy was sent up to inform the guest. When nobody answered, he used a master key to enter the room. At first glance, he saw blood smeared over the walls and over the floor. In the bathroom, “Roland T. Owen” was on his knees with rope tied around his neck and wrists. He had been repeatedly stabbed and bludgeoned across the head. Still clinging to life, he said he had “fell against the bathtub.” He died later on that night. An investigation of the room turned up nothing. Not one piece of clothing could be found nor any complimentary hygiene products or towels. It was soon discovered that the man had given a fake name, thus his body was displayed at a local funeral home in the hopes that somebody could recognise him. The man who had picked up the bewildered hitchhiker the night before recognised him immediately. Multiple people from separate establishments, including other hotels and even a wrestling arena, came forward to identify him. However, each person that identified him said that he gave a different name.

As the weeks passed, the man remained unidentified, even though many could identify him by appearance. He was intended to be buried in the city’s cemetery for the unidentified but as locals caught wind of this, police received an anonymous letter from somebody who asked them to hold the burial off until they would be able to forward a hefty amount for a decent burial and funeral. Days later, the money came in and he was buried in Memorial Park Cemetery. A local florist also received an anonymous donation for a bouquet of flowers that were signed off with “Love Forever - Louise.” Other than a couple of investigators working on the case, nobody attended the funeral. 

The case remained cold until 1936, when Eleanor Ogletree read about the murder in a magazine. She believed the description of the man sounded like her brother, 17-year-old Artemus Ogletree, who had been missing since 1934. The family had assumed he was okay because in spring of 1935 - months after “Roland T. Owen” died - they had received several typewritten letters from Artemus, claiming he was sailing to Europe. The family were initially suspicious of these letters because Artemus couldn’t type. A few months after these letters, they received a phone call from a man who told them that Artemus had saved his life in Egypt and that he was happily married to a woman he had met in his travels.

The Ogletree family were shown a photo of the murder victim. It was Artemus, they unfortunately confirmed. His identification led to even more questions. Why had he used so many fake names? Who was the woman in his room? Who was Don? What happened to him the evening he was picked up by the driver, looking dishevelled? Who paid for his funeral? Who was Louise? Who sent the letters to his family? And finally, who killed him and why?

7

Given its key role in 12x15, I thought it was about time to remake my green cooler appreciation gifset (shoutout to original requester @samspurpletoothbrush)

4

Kara had solar flared twice in the space of as many weeks. Sure, her powers always came back, and yes, today, she was completely fine, but J'onn and Alex were worried.
“Kara, you’re just going to burn yourself out again. Take the weekend to recharge. J'onn has Supergirl under control, James has offered to help out too,” Alex said, ushering Kara out of the DEO.

Kara groaned. She knew where Alex was coming from, but it was 8AM on a Saturday, and the most strenuous thing Kara had done the previous day, was staying up until 9PM texting Lena. Speaking of Lena, Kara figured her friend could probably use a relaxing day out of National City too. So she sent off a text.

Lena, of course, was at L-Corp, meaning Kara had to use the key Lena had given her for emergencies. She let herself into the apartment, much to Lena’s exasperation, and packed a bag of casual clothes.

She made her way to L-Corp, greeting Kerry and Monica at the front desk and Johnathon the security point on her way through the front doors.

Lena was packing up her paperwork when Kara let herself into Lena’s office. She dumped the bag on the couch and grinned cheekily at Lena, who had her arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

“You know that key is for emergencies only…?”

“This was an emergency. You’re working on my weekend off. Lena, I never get the weekend off…” Kara huffed.

Lena smirked, “Ah yes, the busy schedule of an investigative journalist… News waits for no one, right?”

Kara rolled her eyes, “You should be thanking me. Get dressed. We’re going to the beach.”

Business and Pleasure - Part 12

Summary:  Bucky AU. After a major deal falls through, your father’s business almost falls apart. In a desperate attempt to save his livelihood, he seeks the help of his oldest friend, George Barnes, who happens to be the CEO of one of the most influential businesses in New York. He agrees, but on one condition. You have to marry his son.

Word Count: 1,359

Warnings: Swearing 


Originally posted by buckysclique


Neither of you had slept that night. You were wrapped in each other’s embrace until the moment Bucky had to leave. You had insisted on going to the airport with him, despite his protests that it wasn’t necessary. You wanted to, though. You couldn’t let him leave on his own.

There was a time when you prayed that he would be sent away on business, but things had changed so much in so little time. You wanted to show him that you were serious, to reassure him that your relationship would survive even despite the distance.

Keep reading

Masquerade Valentines EXTRA

Extra - Could Tell A Love

NOTES: Well, ended up throwing this together for V-day after all, short and sweet. 


It was laughable that he was upset, really. Victor even almost berated himself for it, for packing as close to what he would call a tantrum as what a grown adult who was heir to one of the biggest criminal groups in the world could be.

People steered well clear of him today, they did what he asked, they didn’t argue, they didn’t fight back. He’d woken up in a foul mood, eaten breakfast and done his work out in the freezing cold in an even worse mood, and it’d soured as the day wore on, it was only lunch time.

And it was also Valentine’s day.

Keep reading

Picture Perfect - Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester - Part ??? (Sneak Peek)

Title: Picture Perfect

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: —

Warnings: None

Prompt: I got it! Can you do a fic where Sam dies while (Y/N) is pregnant with his child and so Dean helps her raise the child and they live the apple pie life and right when Dean wants to propose to (Y/N), Sam returns to life & ANGST. Please and thank you

Read part 1 here!

Originally posted by itsokaysammy

“Sammy-” Dean’s voice was thick as he stared at his younger brother, you on the other hand coul not take your eyes off the ground. A heavy weight was sitting on your chest. You had your arms wrapped around your waist to keep yourself from shaking. Although it was impossible.

“There are things that- you need to know.” he breathed out in a low and rough voice. You shut your eyes for a moment, trying to keep the tears from slipping. How could any of those words be uttered. How could Dean or you ever tell him all that has happened in these past five years? How could you ever tell him that once you had won the war against Amara, in a way, she had actually granted Dean a wish that was both a blessing and a curse? Blessing because yes, deep down even if he didn’t know it, he wanted to have a family with you and a curse because that required his brother to be dead?

It had shaken you to the core when you realized it all. But there was no changing that and quiet honestly you were more focused, back then, in helping Dean get past his guilt and self-loathing than anything else. There was nothing you could do to bring Sam back anyway.

Or so you thought back then.

“Th-things?” Sam asked in a low voice and you could swear every time you heard his voice, even if you weren’t directly looking at him, you held your breath. He glanced at you, his eyes lingering on your form that was almost curled on the couch. Every fiber in his body screamed for him to gather you in his arms and not let you go ever again. It was close to five years for you and Sam could only imagine how hard it would have been for you. He almost found himself reaching out for you but held himself when Dean cleared his throat. He definitely had missed his brother too but the look that was on his face made Sam frown for a moment.

“Listen man we- we are both happy that you’re back. Trust me I-” Dean’s voice was shaky and laced with emotion “- You know I would have never wanted anything more.” he breathed out and Sam smiled. He knew it had always been hard for Dean to express his feelings with words so even this little bit, he knew, meant everything for his brother.

“But-” he got a little serious, swallowing thickly “It’s been four years, hell almost five. And things just… changed.”

“Changed? As in what?” Sam blinked, his eyes casting on you that as it seemed for the first time were looking at him “(Y/n)?” he whispered, holding your gaze “Is- is everything alright?” he walked closer towards you.

“Is it- is it about our daughter?” he asked softly, his eyes welling up with tears.

You felt a pang in your chest, as if someone had just stabbed you. It had never been said out loud ever since you and Dean got together, even if it was constantly in your mind. But with Mary calling him dad, there was never any need to say it out loud- and quiet honestly none of you dared to. But now, Sam was here. Alive, very much alive, and uttering the words as if it was the most simple thing. Not knowing how hard it really was.

“Her name’s Mary.” you choked out as your eyed were locked with his “I- I named her Mary. After your mother.” you whispered and saw how his eyes widened but soon filled with all sorts of emotions.

And gosh you hated it, but there was one more to come. One that would manage to overshadow any other kind of emotion.

You heard the car pull over and it all moved almost in a slow motion as Jody opened the door with the keys you had given her – just in case – and the little girl run in. You saw how Sam stiffened for a moment but the anticipation was written all over his face. Just as was the adoration when he saw the small person he helped create ran inside the house and shout the one thing he would have dreamed and longed for wherever he’d been all these years.

“Daddy!”

Although the moment the words left her lips Sam’s smile vanished and you could see his entire world crumble down when she ran right into Dean’s arms, the older Winchester giving an apologetic and hurt look to his younger brother.

But that would never be enough. Not anymore. Not now,

Spare Key || Bangtan Reaction

Jin / Seokjin

Jin would look at the key in his hand and wonder why it was given to him. Of course he was happy you trusted him so much but he thought it was a little early to be trading house keys, It wasn’t until you explained what it was for that he relaxed a little bit and nodded.

Originally posted by bambamisaboomyinmypants

Suga / Yoongi

Yoongi wouldn’t even question it. He would understand why it was given immediately, as one of the main things he loved about you was the fact that both of you would lay around all the time.

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

J-Hope / Hoseok

Hoseok would stare at the key for a few minutes before turning back and looking at you with wide eyes. He would try to hand the key back to you but when you wouldn’t accept it he would begin to ask a million questions. The moment you answered the main one he would calm down and laugh at the reason behind it.

Originally posted by junghosyub

Rap Monster / Namjoon

Namjoon would ask you straight up if you thought it was a little too soon. He would mention the fact that you two had only been dating for a few months, and then you would tell him about how you were just too lazy to let him in. He would roll his eyes at your reason but accept the key gratefully.

Originally posted by syubto

Jimin

He would be quiet for a while, trying to think about why you had given him the key. Sure he came over a lot but didn’t you think it was a little soon before he moved in. Jimin tried not to show how confused he was but failed when you picked up on it almost immediately. You laughed as he explained his thoughts, only to tell him the real reason and have a blush flood over his cheeks.

Originally posted by wellhell0therenicetomeetyou

V / Taehyung

Taehyung would be trying to cover the smile on his face, knowing right away why you had given him the key. He thought it was cute and adorable how you were too lazy to let him in. He knew he would lose it soon enough and you would either have to make a new one for him or continue to let him in again. There was never going to be a change between that and this.

Originally posted by cyyphr

Jungkook

The little child would have a heart attack. He would take one look at the key you offered him and you would see the colour drain out of his face. You would take one look at him and burst out laughing, instantly explaining to him that it was only because you were to lazy to let him in every time he came over.

Originally posted by grape-joon

Never Too Early

Originally posted by aestheticvbts

Description: Hoseok decides it’s never too early for a bit of dessert.

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Don’t ask. I just needed to write this. It’s been plaguing me. Shoutout to @ellieljade who’s become my beta, apparently. Obviously, this was the next stage of friendship we were meant to ascend to.

Keep reading

The Arrangement (Part 12)

Originally posted by supernaturalfreewill

Summary (story spoilers): someone delivers some unexpected and unpleasant news, sending you running. Sam and Benny confront Dean, and the three of them go looking for you.

Pairing: AU!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,500

Warnings (again, spoilers): lots of language, angst, cheating, feelings of betrayal and worthlessness

A/N: Thank you guys for all your patience! My show this weekend went really well! I came in 3rd out of 17 and qualified for Nationals in early May! Hope you enjoy this installment, though I think I’ll have a few upset messages…

Want to catch up? Check out the series masterlist!

Keep reading

Summary: Jughead Jones, facing the reality of having nowhere to stay anymore when the Drive-In gets shut down, finds temporary shelter at the Blue & Gold office. But what happens when an upset Betty Cooper catches him on the act?

Read on AO3

(Sooooo, I’m watching Riverdale and my feels about Bughead are over the moon!! And now that we learnt some bits and pieces about his life and that he doesn’t have a house anymore (my heart is broken, I just love Jughead) I had no other choice but to write this, hope you all like guys!!!)


Jughead knew the routine by now. Scrunched down and trying to make his trademark combat boots as soundless as possible, the raven haired boy cautiously popped his head from the corner he was hiding, icy blue eyes scanning the empty corridor in from of him. A quarter to nine, the great clock over the entrance of Riverdale High informed him and he slightly frowned, biting anxiously on his down lip and drumming his slender fingers on the tiled wall next to him in anticipation. Radio commercials along with the icky sound of track soles stepping on wet floor could be heard faintly inside the now lifeless school building, a tell-tale sign that his misery for the day will soon be over and Jughead could be nothing but relieved about it. He was tired and even more so mentally tired, with all the small town drama and its joke of residents as well as his spiraling thoughts about his novel and the newfound reality he had to adjust to, that being his current situation of well, yeah, being homeless, plus the here and there thoughts about a certain girl next door, a girl he knew all his life and a girl he always knew belonged to his best friend, that lately seemed to invade his mind an awful more lot. Yeah, Jughead needed a place to lie down, even if that was the dusty floor of the Blue & Gold.

Keep reading

back home

ive never written anything w this relationship so i am pleased as punch and kinda wanna live in this world for a little while so i might post more

words: 2k

warnings: parent death ment

feat: everybody except scott and thor. i’ll probably find some way to work them in though.

a/n: bucky’s gonna b a bit of an ass



You were practically jumping up and down in the elevator because of how excited you were as the doors slid open. It’d been almost 6 months since you’d last seen Tony which was without a doubt the longest period of time you’d gone without seeing him in your life. Things had become chaotic in your life and his but the two of you still talked on a regular basis. You were his one sense of stability at this point in his life and he had proven time and time again that he would do anything to keep you safe.

Keep reading

Red Jamie and the White Lady - Part 2

Well, since your response was so overwhelming, here’s part 2! Many many thanks to @diversemediums for helping me think things through! She and I are both excited to see what happens next. I can’t remember the last time when I had absolutely no idea what was coming on next in a story. Thanks for enjoying part one so much!

Catch up HERE


Claire didn’t go home with Geillis that night, unsure about what had happened with that strange psychic man.

“Claire please! You have to tell me everything!”

“There’s nothing to tell! He read my tea leaves, read a little from my palms and told me to come back.”

“Then why won’t you come home? Afraid I’ll pester you until you crack?”

Smiling, Claire rolled her eyes.

“Well you’re likely to do that anyway. But no. I’ve got a date with Frank tonight.”

“Oh,” Geillis said flatly. “You’ll be spending the night with him, then?”

“Yes. Unlike you, I prefer my love making to be private.”

Geillis gave her a coy smile.

“I can’t help it if I’m a passionate lover.”

“My only wish is that your ‘passion’ would be a little more quiet. I’m just going to change and then meet up with him for lunch between his classes.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll get the details out of you later.”

As they headed back toward their apartment, Claire realized she hadn’t gotten the number for the place or made an official appointment to return. No matter. She’d just come back when she had time.

Her lunch with Frank was normal, same as always. He talked about his classes, his problem students, how many he thought would pass his exams. She told him about the film she and Geillis had watched the night before. For some odd reason, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him about her strange experience with the mysterious Jamie Fraser.

She made dinner for them both in his apartment, ready and on the table when he arrived. They ate and made plans to go see a new museum exhibit the next week. A life with him would be comfortable, uneventful, and she would want for nothing. He would provide a good home and be a good father.

The palm of her hand tingled where Jamie had touched her and she thought about his words.

As if you’ve a big choice to make. Neither will lead to destruction, but one is clearly the better of the other.

Looking up from her own hand, she saw Frank waiting for an answer.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Are you ready for bed?”

“Oh, yes. I’m sorry, I completely zoned out for a moment.”

She followed him back to his bedroom where they made love the same way they always did. It wasn’t bad, but neither was it as amazing as Geillis always made it sound.

When she finally drifted asleep, she had the strangest dreams. The air around her smelled different, everything seemed younger, fresher.

She was walking, barefoot, through the wet grass. It was raining, but that wasn’t surprising for her. She was searching for something. No, for someone. He promised he’d meet her here, that he wouldn’t make her wait a moment longer.

“Christ, ye look like a wee Faerie, running about through the grass like that. Come here to me, Sassenach.”

“You’re late,” she said, turning to the familiar voice.

Turning around, she searched for his eyes, but her gaze couldn’t move from his lips.

“I was here on time, as I promised. But I didna want to interrupt ye.”

“Please, it’s been long enough!”

Large hands moved over her body in a way that only a lover would do. She felt him untie the laces at the back of her gown.

“It’s been two whole days, a nighean. Surely ye canna be that desperate.”

Her fingers found the sturdy folds of his kilt and began to tug them up. Finally, her gown loostened and she wriggled out of it, standing before him in only her thin shift.

“Closer to three, and yes I can. You’ve rather a voracious appetite, my lad, and I’ve gotten used to it.”

“It’s that good then, is it?”

“You know it is, you Scottish bastard.”

He had several days of stubble on his chin as he bent and kissed her. But oh! How she’d missed this mouth! Rough hands ran over her back and down to her buttocks, where he squeezed and let out a sigh.

“Roundest arse I’ve ever had the pleasure to see. And fondle.”

“I’m really not concerned with the fondling of my arse at the moment, good sir.”

“Fair point, my lady.”

While he worked on the ties of his shirt, she pulled his belt free and shook his kilt out on the ground. While this wouldn’t be the first time they’d made love out of doors, she wasn’t fond of the debris that got stuck on her everywhere.

God the smell of him, the feel of his toned body beneath her hands, the taste of his tongue probing inside her mouth. It was all too much. She shrugged out of her shift and lay down on his kilt, watching as he admired her naked body.

“Have I told ye lately, mo chridhe,” he whispered, speckling her skin with kisses as he made his way up to her lips. “How much I love ye?”

“Not in the last hour, no.”

“I love you,” he kissed beneath her left breast. “I love you.” A kiss beneath her right. “I love you.” A kiss right between them.

Taking fistfuls of his bright red hair in both her hands, she pulled his mouth up to her own.

“Come show me how much, my beloved husband.”

Then two blue eyes locked with her own. Eyes she’d seen before. The color seemed to be shifting through every shade of blue in existence.

“MINE,” growled his voice, thick with lust. “You are mine alone! Mine forever! I’ll no’ give ye up to another! No’ now, no’ ever!”

“Yes!” she screamed back at him, digging her fingers into whatever flesh she could find.

Her body was trembling beneath him, though not from cold. Both of her legs struggled to lock around him, her hips lifting to meet his thrusts. God she didn’t want this to ever end.

“Look at me, Claire!”

Forcing her eyes open, she met his gaze.

“Promise me. Promise me that we’ll always find each other. In this life and the next.”

“I swear it. I’m yours, forever and always Jamie. I love you.”

Claire shot up in bed, panting and sweating. Her body shook in a way it had never done before. Her breasts ached and there was a heavy dampness between her legs that hadn’t been there before.

Trying not to wake Frank, she got up and went to splash water on her face. Staring at herself in the mirror, she ran hands through her hair.

“What the hell was that, Beauchamp?”

***

Jamie tossed and turned, restless. In all his reading through his journals, he’d gleaned no further information on Miss Beauchamp.

Then all at once, he knew he’d fallen asleep. This wasn’t a normal dream, but the first vision he’d had in years.

He watched her wander through the field, stalking her as a wolf did a rabbit. But he would have her in his arms soon enough.

And then he had her, in his arms, smelling like the wet earth and that heady scent of her arousal. He couldn’t undress her fast enough, couldn’t feel her bare skin soon enough. Nearly three days, sleeping alone. Far, far too long.

Then he was above her, staring down into those inhumanly golden eyes, her breasts rubbing slightly against his chest as she panted.

“I love you,” he whispered against the skin of her chest.

“Come show me how much, beloved husband.”

Husband. They’d been married a month ago in secret. No one knew they had. He’d given her a silver ring and the key to his estate, along with his heart and virginity. But she kept them hidden.

He’d felt the ring sewen into one of her pockets, always with her. He had no idea what she’d done with the key. It didn’t matter. They belonged to each other and no one else. Soon enough, he’d get her with child and no one could separate them.

White hot pain pricked over his body where she clawed and drew blood.

“MINE,” he growled into her ear, resisting the urge to bite ite. “You are mine alone! Mine forever! I’ll no’ give ye up to another! No’ now, no’ ever!”

“Yes!”

Hearing her say that, while her hips lifted to meet his, gave him a primal pleasure he didn’t understand. Her body jerked as he felt himself prepare for release. His howl started low and guttural, growing in volume until-

Throwing the sheets off, he swung his legs over one side of his bed and put his hands on his knees. It took him several minutes to catch his breath and keep his hands from shaking. Christ he’d forgotten how intensely real these visions could be.

Visions of things he’d never experienced were the worst. Having never lain with a woman, he could only assume it would feel like that.

“Holy God,” he muttered to himself, running a hand over his head. “What just happened, Fraser? Get yourself together, man.”

Missing his longer hair, he took another breath and reached for the empty dream journal he kept beside his bed. For now he would jot down the notes and quick sketches quickly. Later, after he’d had time to study the vision, he’d write it down properly in the big book, sketch things out and take his time about it.

Wondering when he would see Miss Beauchamp again, he decided to take a shower and not dwell on his vision; or how he could still taste her in his mouth, or feel her breasts beneath his hands. Christ he could still feel her nipples between his teeth, feel her trembling, smell the intensity of her want for him. Perhaps it would be a cold shower.

okay so.. i know we’re all Tired and it feels like we’re just going around in circles without any end in sight, and i don’t expect anyone to care about this, but i’m making this post as a reference anyway. so. chronologically, here are all of the potentially significant (seemingly from an external source, in line with themes and the ARG theory) ciphers that tumblr users have been sent since thelostspecial started gaining attention + their decoded meanings + possible connections we’ve made with them. here we go.

i’m still combing through archives to make sure i haven’t missed anything, so please, if you’re aware of any that i’ve left out, let me know so i can add them in!!

delicate | (m)

Originally posted by yoongijae

 pairing: min yoongi x reader, pianist! yoongi
genre/warnings: smut, oral, fingering, slightly-dom! yoongi, 
• words: 4,373
→ summary: in which Yoongi is your piano teacher and you just can’t stop yourself from looking at those delicate fingers and all the not-so delicate things he could do with them…
• note. inspired by a request I received here. I have never studied the form of a piano so intently before now just to make this smut doable.

Keep reading